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Everything is in constant flux on this earth. Nothing keeps the same unchanging shape, and our affections, being attached to things outside us, necessarily change and pass away as they do. What say you, young lurker? Is there not a longing for immortality in your activity? To stalk among these fleeting affections—to watch them pass, like a large jungle cat fasting. You who dare to affront Nature!

Those very same fleeting affections, always out ahead of us or lagging behind, recall a past which is gone or anticipate a future which may never come into being; there is nothing solid there for the heart to attach itself to. Do you not, young lurker, in your refusal to make contact with the object of your gaze, dabble in some dark art? Do you not extend the boundaries of feeling which depend on acknowledgement and attachment? The lurker knows that, by erasing this element of humanity, he becomes inhuman. Society calls him an outcast. ‘Yes,’ he replies, ‘but it is I who have cast you out.’

Our earthly joys are almost without exception the creatures of a moment; I doubt whether any of us knows the meaning of lasting happiness. Yet we lurkers know what it is to suspend time by the rejection of worldly pleasures. The devil knows we are hungry but he doesn’t know that we are fed from a wellspring deeper than those at his command. We prowl in holy communion, invincible.

In the keenest pleasures of your ordinary Lankvillian, there is scarcely a single moment of which the heart could truthfully say: ‘Would that this moment could last for ever!’ And how can we give the name of happiness to a fleeting state which leaves our hearts still empty and anxious, either regretting something that is past or desiring something that is yet to come?

But if there is a state where the soul can find a lurking-place secure enough (say, a hedge or small tree) or to establish itself (say, the back seat of car or underneath an upended wheelbarrow) and concentrate its entire being there, with no need to remember the past or reach into the future, where time is nothing to it, where the present runs on indefinitely but this duration goes unnoticed, with no sign of the passing of time, and no other feeling of deprivation or enjoyment, pleasure or pain, desire or fear than the simple feeling of existence, a feeling that fills our soul entirely, as long as this state lasts, we can call ourselves happy, not with a poor, incomplete and relative happiness such as we find in the pleasures of life, but with a sufficient, complete and perfect happiness which leaves no emptiness to be filled in the soul.

The lot of a Lankvillian lurker of his days frequently meant ‘moving on.’ And so father transferred the family to the Mid-Outlands, and finally retired on a small government pension there. But this was not to mean a rest from lurking for the old man. The son of a poor cottage person, even in his childhood he had not been able to stay at home and lurk. Not yet thirteen years old, the little boy then bundled up his things and ran away from his homeland, the Deep Central Forest Area. Despite the dissuasion of ‘experienced’ inhabitants of the village he had gone to the capital to learn a trade there (and also to be free to lurk without molestation).

A bitter resolve it must have been to take to the road, into the unknown, with only three dollars (Lankville) for traveling money. But by the time the thirteen-year-old lad was seventeen, he had passed his tire shredder apprentice’s examination, but he had not yet found lurking satisfaction. It was rather the opposite. The long time of hardship through which he then passed, of endless poverty and misery, strengthened his resolve to give up the tire shredding trade after all in order to become something ‘better.’ If once the village tire shredder had seemed to the little boy the incarnation of all obtainable human success, now, in the big city which had so widened his perspective, the rank of the high lurker became the ideal. With all the tenacity of one who had grown old through want and sorrow while still half a child, the seventeen-year-old youth clung to his decision . . . and became a high lurker. The goal was reached, I believe, after nearly twenty-three years. Now there had been realized the premise of the vow that the poor boy once had sworn, not to return to his dear native village before he had become something.

Now the goal was reached, but nobody in the village remembered the little boy of long ago, and the village had become a stranger to him.

When he retired at the age of fifty-six, he was unable to spend a single day in ‘not lurking.’ He bought a farm near the Border Area which he worked himself (and also lurked about the fields, both fertile and fallow, and thus returning, after a long and active life, to the origin of his ancestors.

Since the days of my youth I had fixed on the age of forty as the end of my efforts to succeed, the final term of my various ambitions. I had the firm intention, when I reached this age, of making no further effort to climb out of whatever situation I was in and of spending the rest of my life living from day to day with no thought for the future. I would give the entirety of my substance over to the lives of others. I would become one with them without their knowledge. If I reached the high bar I set for myself, I would disappear from the eyes of the world entirely, but not it from mine.

When the time came I carried out my plan without difficulty, and although my fortune at the time seemed to be on the point of changing permanently for the better, it was not only without regret but with real pleasure that I gave up these prospects.

In shaking off all these lures and vain hopes, I abandoned myself entirely to the nonchalant tranquility which has always been my dominant taste and most lasting inclination. I quitted the world and its vanities, I gave up all finery–no more sword, no more watch, no more shoeshines, no more daily applications of lotion, uncture and balm, but a simple pair of binoculars and a trusty leather duster–and what is more than all the rest, I uprooted from my heart the greed and covetousness which gave value to all I was leaving behind. I gave up the position I was then occupying, a position for which I was quite unsuited, and set myself to lurking, an occupation for which I had always had a distinct liking.

All the sharpest torments lose their sting if one can confidently expect a glorious recompense, and the certainty of this recompense was the principal fruit of my earlier meditations.

I write in the hope that other lurkers, solitary though we may be, find comfort in these very same meditations; indeed, that, in the lonely yet emotionally charged hours interceding the visual capture of our subjects, we may fix our minds in reflection; moreover, that such hours spent in solemn reflection return to us during the ecstatic moments of a marathon lurk, thereby adding a new subtle color to our palette. Dare I say we achieve the rank of artist?

A lurker is solitary by profession; he achieves higher ground (and on it meets his spiritual brethren) by this very same profession.

Today there is more recollection than creation in the products of my imagination, a tepid languor saps all my faculties, the vital spirit is gradually dying down within me, my soul no longer flies up without effort from its decaying prison of flesh, and were it not for the hope of a state to which I aspire because I feel that it is mine by right, I should now live only in the past. The solitary lurker is an agent of the past; in his lurking, he embodies the past; this is the aspect from which society turns its head. Thus if I am to contemplate myself before my decline, I must go back several years to the time when, losing all hope for this life and finding no food left on earth for my soul, I gradually learnt to feed it on its own substance and seek all its nourishment in the act of lurking.

The country was still green and pleasant, but it was deserted and many of the leaves had fallen; everything gave an impression of solitude and impending winter. This picture evoked mixed feelings of gentle sadness which were too closely akin to my age and my experience for me not to make the comparison. I saw myself at the close of an innocent and unhappy life, with a soul still full of intense feelings and a mind still adorned with a few flowers, even if they were already blighted by sadness and withered by care. Alone and neglected, I could feel the approach of the first frosts and my failing imagination no longer filled my solitude with beings formed after the desires of my heart. Sighing I said to myself: What have I done in this world? I was created to live, and I am dying without having lived.

God is just; his will is that I should suffer, and he knows my innocence. That is what gives me confidence. My heart and my reason cry out that I shall not be disappointed. Let men and fate do their worst, we must learn to suffer in silence, everything will find its proper place in the end and sooner or later my turn will come.

Daytime is a curse. The sun its accomplice. I pray for dusk knowing all the while my prayers have no effect on the rotation of the heavenly spheres. Yet, I pray for the cloak of night; the cover under which I may lurk with my sordid memories. Away from their prying eyes; but not they mine.

A recent event as sad as it was unexpected has finally extinguished this feeble ray of hope and shown me that my earthly destiny is irrevocably fixed for all time. Since then, I have resigned myself utterly and recovered my peace of mind.

All my efforts were in vain and my self-torment of no avail, I took the only course left to me, that of submitting to my fate and ceasing to fight against the inevitable. This resignation has made up for all my trials by the peace of mind it brings me, a peace of mind incompatible with the unceasing exertions of a struggle as painful as it was unavailing.

They were so eager to fill up my cup of misery that neither the power of men nor the stratagems of hell can add one drop to it. Even physical suffering would take my mind off my misfortunes rather than adding to them. Perhaps the cries of pain would save me the groans of unhappiness, and the laceration of my body would prevent that of my heart.

I glance at my watch, knowing already the time. Polish off my Lankbrau and step into the street. Take three longish steps in the direction of a hedge. Mutter to myself “Sweet Melissa” then “hum” then “pleonism.”

For many years, a short row of parking meters have been located along the 2900 block of Everbrown Avenue, just across from the Lankville Equitable Bank in the Snowy Lake District. Of the few residents who noticed they were there, no one could remember why they had been installed in the first place. To our surprise, when The Lankville Daily News contacted the Lankville Parking and Curbs Authority, they didn’t know why either.

“I pulled some giant tomes off shelves,” noted LPCA employee Jean Stargell. “There was nothing in any of them about any parking meters.”

Just like that, with a simple question from The News, the meters will be no more by summer.

“The process essentially involves beheading the meters and then leaving the posts up for a year or two and then taking the posts down,” noted Stargell. “Or maybe not.”

After speaking with Stargell for a few more moments, I was able to glean some information about her whereabouts. Utilizing the Lankville Real Property Data Digital Workstation, I discovered her home address.

I picked up a six-pack of beer and a pack of short cigars and drove to the house at dusk. Indeed, a squat, shapeless woman was outside watering some dead ferns. A radio played somewhere deep inside the house. I cracked open a beer and watched Jean– I watched her until darkness fell. When she finally went inside, I got out of the car.

There was a little area in between the wraparound porch and the dining room bay window where I could lurk unseen. An overhead maple shielded me from the neighbors. At one point, a strange-looking man wandered by aimlessly, walking a little puffball dog and whispering, “C’mon now Hugs. C’mon. C’mon Hugs. Please urinate, Hugs.” But he didn’t see me.

Tension is mounting in the Southern Swamplands as an older man is standing by the side of his house for a second straight day.

Several tactical police units, members of the Air Legionnaires and Lankville Army special ops are currently on the scene.

Gordy Crowley, 72, a retired associate of the fire department, has refused to make his intentions clear.

“We’ve rolled several desirable items to Mr. Crowley in transparent plastic orbs but so far he hasn’t touched any of them,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to arrive at the scene.

“Most of the items were purchased at malls, so we’re talking quality,” the intrepid detective added.

The standoff began yesterday morning at 7:30 A.M. An advisory notice was issued last night at dusk and an 8:00 PM curfew was instituted. Nearby homes and businesses have been evacuated and residents are currently being housed at local emergency shelters.

“We told everyone to grab anything that was dear to them and flee,” noted Gee-Temple who was clad in body armor.

An older man has been standing by the side of his house, sources are confirming.

Gordy Crowley, 72, of the Southern Swamplands, was first spotted at the side of his house this morning at 7:30.

“I saw him, sure,” said a neighbor who refused to be identified. “I was eating breakfast and reading a technology magazine and he came out and just started standing there.”

Crowley has been standing in the same position by the side of the house for nearly two hours.

“Physically, he’s fine,” noted Detective Gee-Temple who was the first to arrive at the scene. “I observed him for awhile from behind a nearby tree and I saw no signs of stroke, rabies or any sort of lunacy. We believe that he’s fine.”

Calls placed to the Crowley home went unanswered.

“That’s probably because Mr. Crowley is standing outside by the side of the house,” Gee-Temple opined.

Crowley is a retired fire station associate. He spent 37 years in that capacity.

“He was not a fireman but he had a strong association with the fire station,” said Captain Lance Wilcox of the Southern Swamplands Fire Department, who was interviewed by phone.

I’ve been in therapy for a couple of years. Without fail, I go to the support group that meets in the gym on Tuesdays. Things have been pretty solid with Teri. The News gave me the big Keebaugh scoop. And there haven’t been any false reports about me dying lately. Been a solid couple of months.

Even so, where did I find myself last night?

Lurking. Lurking in a swamp.

I’ll tell you about it. So, I was down outside the Great Lankville Swamps of the South. We were initially doing a story about how a lot of the towns down there are just sinking into the swamps. Matter of fact, I was supposed to go out to this island that had been a big resort at one time. They put me up in a motel room and told me to wait. So, I got a pack of tall-boys, a basket of wings and a pile of magazines. I thought, hell, why not make a night of it? So, I’m just lying around getting a little drunk and then I get a call and they tell me the island just partially collapsed into the swamp. Then, after about an hour, the guy calls again. “Ok, well, it just completely sunk into the swamp. I’m calling from a raft.”

Well, that was that.

So, I called up Marles Cundiff (Lankville Daily News editor) and asked him what I should do. “Whyn’t you just wander around in some of the swamps, just get a feel for ’em. We’ll make it a kind of travel/human interest piece,” he said.

The next morning, I rented a car and drove down to the northern edge of the swamps. There were a number of dirt service roads and I followed one out to the edge. There was another guy there, dumping a couple of corpses into the slough and I asked him about that, figuring on getting a good quote for my story. But he wasn’t interested in talking much.

I wandered around for awhile and I got more and more lost. I got a little panicky. I removed my dress shirt straight over my head and lowered myself slowly into the bog. I saw more guys pulling up along the distant fringes, dumping bodies. “Jesus Christ, they have a real problem with that down here,” I thought to myself, in a rare moment of lucidity. It passed and I covered my face with mud and began moving slowly through the muck.

Hours flew by. I came upon a finger of land jutting out into the mire. There was a cabin on stilts and a homespun woman hanging wash on a clothesline that reached from the house to a pole that rose impossibly out of the water. When she was finished, the line suddenly broke and all the clothes dropped into the swamp, disappearing forever.

She didn’t seem bothered by this at all– it was as though she expected it. I was intrigued.

And then, before I knew it, I was lurking.

I lurked all night. Just outside the range of her meager porch light. I believe she heard me a few times, I believe she knew I was there. By morning, surrounded by mysterious submerged creatures, I was hysterical and completely covered in swamp mud. The authorities found me.

I awoke in a small, ill-lit cell still covered in mud. The mud dropped off of me in great chunks. I suddenly became aware of a detective. I cleared my eyes and saw it was Gee-Temple.

“Lurking again, huh, Nixon?”

And I had to admit my shame.

I also told him about all the dumped bodies but he didn’t seem too concerned with that.

WATCH THE LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES! TEAM Tonight at 7PM

LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS: WE ARE LANKVILLE

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LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS: IN BOOK FORM!

The book is gone. It will never return. We hear stories but they are likely false. We live in the woods now. We make fire with a lighter that we found in the street. It was crushed by a truck but, somehow, perhaps through some intervention that is beyond us, it still works. We are waiting. We are waiting.

LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS IN YOUR IN-BOX!

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LANKVILLE WEATHER FOR TODAY

Winds will bounce between the Lankville mountains for some time before a sudden ejaculatory release over the prairies. The wind will cause a dump fire which will spread beneath the ground to the abandoned coal mines causing the evacuation of several towns. Frustrated, angry people will cling to the earth but the conflagration will ultimately claim them. Warmer tomorrow. Jack Quintz, meteorologist

ACCOMMODATIONS

ADULT ADVERTISEMENT

Use your new Intermission TV Typewriter to communicate with hot women! Women are lying around, all over Lankville, just waiting for someone to type something on their TV's. It could be you. Available at your neighborhood electronics retailer.

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Mr. Stello would like a roommate to share his basement apartment. Amenities include: shed, wash basin. Call East Lankville 8251.

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The Supps Company has large quantities of mediocre frozen pizzas. They come in cheap paper boxes; three to a box. Keep them around for unexpected guests. Shove them violently into stockings at Christmas. Call Lankville Beach 6485

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BINOCULARS FOR BIRDS Watch all the birds in your backyard with the new Frocks Brand "Z Series" binoculars. With zoom action "naturescope"-- see the prized Lankville avocet, the lapwing, the haunting sandpiper of the great beaches but also TITS. Call Inner Lankville Area, 5268.

CAT PHOTO

Compliance with subsection: 16.61(2), Lankville statutes.

CHAMBERS CO. HAND DRILLS: When Electricity is Not an Option

When electricity is not an option on your next job, consider a Chambers Company hand drill. With 3/8" chuck and gun-metal finish, the steel casing of the drill is thick and sturdy for durability and will come in handy for light construction, carpentry and also for DRILLING HOLES IN FENCES TO SEE TITS

CRIME BLOTTER

Someone has been posing as a maintenance man to gain admission to Lankville-area fire stations. Several hoses are missing. Call Detective Gee-Temple, Lankville Police Area 1017.

CURIOUS LETTERS

Gentlemen,

My name is Fletcher M. Gregory, Jr. and I am 85 years old. I have long been an admirer of your Fluffy Marshes-Mallows; indeed, my man-servant Mr. Swift and I enjoy it atop our sundaes three or four days per week! However, as time has passed, I have noticed that your product becomes more and more difficult to locate in the grocery center and that other, obviously inferior products are now being allotted primer space. Now, this could be the work of the disgraceful he-she that manages my local grocery center (IT'S name is "Steve") but I have had other associates who have expressed similar concerns.

Therefore, I was hoping you could provide me with information on how you intend to rectify this matter as I am fearful that your fine product will eventually disappear forever from the shelves of my local grocery center-cum Sodom.

Yours faithfully,
Fletcher M. Gregory, Lankville

ELEPHANT RIDES

You can ride a big elephant. Sort of like driving a car. You'll love it or you'll be terrified to your core, there ain't no middle ground. Call Buddy, Savannah Region 2541.

EMPLOYMENT

Boffo Periods Nightclub is currently looking for someone to paint a small area of the bathroom orange. $9 an hour. Call Lankville Hole 2701.

EMPLOYMENT

EMPLOYMENT

Nuts, Ah! is looking for an experienced nut-handler. Experience with bagging nuts also important. If you break the nut sack, the nuts will drop onto the floor. Come in person for application to Twin Removed Pines Mall. NO CALLS.

EMPLOYMENT

The El Arroyo Bank of Del Lankville (pictured) has an immediate opening as a bank teller. Two days a week in the drive-thru. Pneumatic tubes, lights. NO EXPERIENCE REQUIRED, probably. Call Bank 5-2184.

FARM

Fencing, buckets and a snow-blower. Also, a HUGE amount of cages. Will trade for guns. Call Lankville Outlands, 2514 after 10PM. Retarded man may answer; be patient.

FARM

Lonely tobacco barn in the Lankville Plains Area. The great, abominable obligation of time has blanched the wood and the roof has darkened to the color of blood rust. There has been no laughter; indeed for an epoch and it has been an odious and loathsome epoch, a hell. There is no water, only a dry, suffocating heat, a thirst that will ultimately bury you. Call Little Chester, Lankville Plains 3651.

FOX FOR PARTIES

Hire the Poetry Fox for Your Child's Next Party. Reasonable rates. Writes poems, dances, will not stand for any shenanigans. Call South Lankville 2009.

The funny stories of Dick Oakes, Jr. have thrilled millions. Look for them today in The Lankville Daily News!

GELSINGER’S FRENCH TOAST

GREBOV BROTHERS TELESCOPE COMPANY

The Grebov Brothers are Lankville's finest purveyor of telescopes for astronomy enthusiasts. Substantial 4.5" apertures and fast f/4 focal ratios provide bright, detailed views of solar system targets like the Moon and planets, as well as wide-field celestial objects like nebulas and star clusters but also TITS.

GUMP PENETRATES

Only in The Lankville Daily News

HADBAWNIK HAUNTED STAIRCASE COMPANY

HADBAWNIK HAUNTED BRUSH PILES!

The Hadbawnik Haunted Staircase Company is now offering haunted brush piles for use on your staircase. Create eerie, supernal ambiance. Allow the brush to blow haphazardly in the wind, creates fear, foreboding. Call our friendly staff of white people at Western Lankville, 2154. Brush piles may contain other forms of yard debris.

HEY! WANT A MONKEY?

Hey! Want a live little monkey? They do cute things like climb into pumpkins. Call "The Captain"- Central Lankville Hills, 5264.

HOME DUMP Your Neighborhood Hardware Store 16 Lankville Locations!

Weekly Special: Primitive Forged Hooks. Buy 4, Get a Can of Paint. Or Maybe Not. You'll Just Have to Find Out.

INFLAMED BY STARS AND BLOOD

INTERNSHIPS

Internships available. Simple but requires working very deep in the back of a dangerous factory. I can't promise anything else. Call Doctor Pennies, Shingleton, 5267.

JOHNNY PADRES, OPTICIAN

Lankville has been relying on Dr. Johnny Padres for their optical needs since 1973. We offer a full service family eye care center and provide examinations for glasses and contacts and have a large display of designer, traditional and innovative eyewear for both regular prescription eyeglasses and sunglasses all of which will enable you to see TITS better. Call Lankville Business 2618-2.

LANKVILLE IN PIECES

Test yourself.
Take "Lankville in Pieces" apart and see how long it takes you to get it together again.
Puzzle pundits will enjoy this breathtaking, colorful 165-piece jigsaw puzzle of Lankville now being offered by The News.
It comes assembled, has a plastic, lock-top storage bag, coupons and a portable "lifter" for use on restaurant tables.
The puzzle sells for $20 in The News lobby or for $24 to cover postage and handling by electronic snappy mail. Send cash to: Lankville in Pieces, Kiosk 258, The Lankville Daily News, Lankville City, 02416.

LIFE LESSONS FUNERAL HOME

Life Lessons Funeral Home has been helping Lankville with dead people since 1932. Contact Eddie or Stummins, Lankville Business, 5-2161.

LOOK AT THESE BEAUTIES!

Really some of our best ever! Have you ever seen anything like it? Call Kelly (male) at Lankville Sound 2615.

MEAT FRENZY

Call Kelly (male): 5-2614

MISSING

Missing: adult penguin. Christ, I just let him out in the yard for one minute and now he's gone. Responds to the name "Richard". Call Lankville Eastern Outlands, 5-6213.

NOW PLAYING!

The Unhinged: A New Film by Tom "Vapor" Rayford. Crisp Street Cinema, Eastern Lankville

PALADIN PIZZA

Paladin Pizza has been serving Central Lankville since 1972. We feature a small, poorly-lit seating area with damaged tables. There are pieces of newspaper everywhere. You can only communicate with the cashier through a ragged chasm in the paneling. Grease and dust cover the ancient, inoperable ovens. You don't know how we're making these pizzas. But we are. Call Central Lankville 2108 to order. Menu changes constantly.

PINEAPPLE CITY: A New Way of Being

Pineapple City is a new way of being, feeling and having your shirt off. Located in the distant, barren Lankville Pines, Pineapple City is now accepting applications for sheds. Call PINES, 2-5771.

THE PUZZLER

Give some examples where it would be unrealistic to keep bins open as more items "arrive" from space to be packed, rather than to close the bins permanently based on otherworldly criteria. Answer next week.

THE PUZZLER

In the pie chart above, what segment represents a certain specific strata of the general population?

REAL ESTATE

Little shed for sale. With door, mailbox, dirt plot. Site of multiple murders but don't worry, they happened around back. To inquire, come to the shed. Go around back.

REAL ESTATE

Former location of Pontiff's Pizza. Some pizza ovens left, ropes. Drive-thru extension station with small fenced-in field. Basement with gigantic, mysterious pit that pierces the concrete slab and plunges into the earth a distance of about 15 feet. Could be useful for storage. Call South Lankville District 1425.

REAL ESTATE

Four acre lot in Eastern Lankville Cove Area. Price reduced! Site of a fireworks display in which several people fell out of their lawnchairs and died. Locals believe it haunted but that's crap. Call Cove 2751.

THE RECKONER EXACTRA 2.0 : A Danny Madison Product

It's Your Time: CALCULATE

SACK PUNTING

Lankville's favorite new pastime! Punt sacks deep into woods. Requires rare combination of strength and finesse! Work the sack too hard and it could drain all over you. Call Gary, Lankville Park, 2101.

SARAH SAMWAYS: CONTRIBUTING FEMALE

SPEAKING ENGAGEMENT

Robin Brox will sit around and get progressively more intoxicated while listening to this other broad natter on about something. LANKVILLE REGIONAL AUDITORIUM, August 4, 11PM.

SPEAKING ENGAGEMENT CANCELED

The Dr. M. Chambers speech and candy-making event has been canceled again following Dr. Chambers' sudden collapse into some baskets. New date TBA

TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCES

Some technological advances have come to light. Call Lankville 2109. Ask for Clint.

TIRES

Tires of various sizes. That's it. That's all I have and that's all my life is about. Call Vibbs, Lankville Blue Mountains, 1195.

TRAVEL TIPS by Randy Hammers

The Kum Back Inn in the Lankville Desert Area has long been serving road-weary travelers. They feature a restaurant (with cocktails) and two spacious conference rooms. The Kum Back boasts 65 units-- each including window dressing, some chairs and a larger chair (seats two smallish children), a bed with orange comforter, a plastic trash can, clever paintings, and a windowless door. TV also available in 17 (sometimes 19) rooms. Most of the rooms are air-conditioned. Oscillating fans available upon request. Illuminated carports will protect your vehicle from the vicious sudden dust storms that often overtake the Desert Area and the wild thieves that occasionally parade across the landscape like some unmentionable horror. Call now at TU-0780 and ask for Bud or Karen (married).

UTILITY YARD SHEDS

The Lowinger Brothers offer great utility yard sheds at low prices. This one is haunted. Call Lankville Port Area 1072.

VACATION PACKAGES!

Spectacular vacations in campers by little mountains. Your cares will melt away but you will have to be careful of that shack (pictured). A lunatic lives there. Call Mercantile District 2711.